Inside the Mind of a Hazed Pledge

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One thing is quite apparent on this site, pledges get no love, BECAUSE THEY DESERVE NO LOVE! ONLY PAIN AND SERVITUDE! Still, all of us were pledges once. Sure a combination of grain alcohol and PTSD caused us to black out most of our pledgeship memories, but that doesn’t mean we should completely neglect the point of view of our brothers in waiting. Besides, in time bad memories turn into funny stories, right? Well except rape, that’s funny from the get go, ROFL! (Raping On the Floor Laughing…just kidding, don’t rape).

So let’s empathize with our pledges, if only for the five minutes it will take to read this. Random scenario, random pledge…

5 Minutes In

Okay. Fuck. They just took me and my pledge class, blindfolded us, and put us in a dark room. Shit just got real and there’s a 100% chance it’s gonna get even realer. You can handle this. You can do this. No big deal. Fuck it’s hot in here. Why is it so hot? Is that a space heater I feel? Dammit! I knew I should’ve taken a shit before I came over. Maybe this won’t last that long. What the fuck are they gonna do to us?

15 Minutes In

No one’s come in yet, maybe they’re just trying to mind fuck us. Is being treated like this really worth it?…….Okay it’s totally worth it. I’d rather them come in and sledgehammer my nut sack than spend my college days laying game at a NORML meeting. I’m not really into thick, dreadlocked bush. I wonder if two super dykes have ever entangled pubes while scissoring…I need to Google that later. Fuck it’s hot in here.

30 Minutes In

Active 1: PLEDGE! WHAT YEAR WAS OUR FRATERNITY FOUNDED!

Piece of cake. Thank God I got the easy question.

Pledge: 1857, sir.

Active 1: WRONG!

What!?! NO!?! That was right! That had to be right!

Pledge: Sir, we were founded in 1857, I swear!

Active 1: I meant our chapter not our nationals YOU FUCKING JIZZ MOP! I was gonna give you all water BUT APPARENTLY JIZZ MOP’S MOM SMOKED TOO MUCH CRACK BEFORE SHE QUEEFED HIM OUT SO YOU ALL CAN SUCK A DICK!

Sweet Jesus it’s hot in here. It smells like ass too. It smells like someone exhumed Louie Anderson…wait, is he dead? I need to Google that. I need water.

-Door Opens-

Active 1: Who needs a drink?

Thank you God!

Active 1: Here you go Jizz Mop.

I don’t even care anymore.

-Drinks, chokes down contents of cup-

Oh GODDAMMIT! That was whiskey. Really cheap whiskey! And it’s so warm. It wasn’t even room temperature! Jesus Christ did they fucking microwave that?!?! Honestly, just hook a car battery up to my nips and be done with it.

Active 1: Drink more, it’s good for you.

It’s the OPPOSITE of good for me dick! Whatever, just do what he says. There are worse things than 90 degree whiskey and imminent diarrhea…probably.

1 Hour, 20 Minutes In

What’s going on? All they’ve done is come in, yell at us and ask us questions. Is that it? Wait…I can hear people talking outside. What are they saying? Fuck I can’t hear what they’re saying. I’m so thirsty I would literally welcome being water boarded right now. And I still have to take a fucking shit! I’m an idiot! Always take a shit before the actives find you! You gotta be in game shape! What do I hear now? Laughter? They’re LAUGHING! Sick bastards. YOU’RE SICK! I hope you’re having fun while we’re in here fucking decomposing.

Active 1: Get your ass up, turn around and do a wall sit. RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

I can’t see the wall, I have a fucking blindfold on asshole.

Active 1: A little further.

Where the fuck is the…OW. Well played douche bag.

-Active laughs-

Okay…turning around, sitting against wall, and commence torture…now.

1 Hour, 30 Minutes In

I don’t think I can feel my legs anymore. I can definitely feel my colon though. Little do they know giving me coffee and bran would be the cruelest way to haze me right now.

1 Hour, 45 Minutes In

I’m.so.fucking.thirsty. It’s so hot in here. I’ve never been this dehydrated. I think I’m freaking out. I know I have a blindfold on but I swear to God I just saw a coyote.

2 Hours In

Active 3: Jizz Mopper, get up.

Active 1: No, it’s Jizz Mop. He’s not the guy whose job it is to clean up the jizz. That would imply he was a human being. He’s literally the instrument used to soak jizz up from the ground.

I hate everyone.

Active 3: Oh, yeah, that makes more sense. Jizz Mop, get up.

Where are they taking me? Is it over? Did I pass? Wow standing up really exacerbated this whole “shitting my pants” situation. I can feel a turtle head. Hey little guy, go back inside…go back inside…GO BACK INSIDE! Fuck me. Walk slow, clench tight. Walk slow, clench tight.

Active 1: HURRY THE FUCK UP!

There’s no way my dignity is surviving this night.

2 Hours, 5 Minutes In

Where am I? I think I’m in the basement. I can tell there are a lot of people down here. I can hear them stifling their laughter. Motherfuckers. You better believe I’m gonna pay this forward. Somewhere there’s a high school senior that I’m going to rain fucking hellfire on someday soon.

Active 1: Bend over and take off your pants.

This is the lowest point of my life to date.

-Active grabs paddle, winds up-

Well it’s a good thing they won’t be able to shove anything up my ass. There’s no room. Oh shit does he have a paddle? This turtle head is about to get decapitated.

Rob Fox (née Bacon) is Director of Video Content and a Senior Writer for Total Frat Move, Rowdy Gentleman, and Post Grad Problems. He is a graduate, without honors, from the University of Missouri. His fake best-selling novel series, The Frat Romance Novel, has been self-described as a "pioneering achievement in satirical erotica." Bacon is originally from St. Louis, and currently lives in Austin, Texas. He still has not admitted to his family what he does for a living, and is prone to having wet nightmares ever since losing his virginity in a haunted house. Email: rob@grandex.co

If he is then fuck him. He moderates all of the good comments. But it is not possible to have two opposites be the same person. Bacon is a fratstar. TFM Intern is a butt fucking f.ag sucking piece of shit.